


You're Gonna Get Me Killed

by Erica_likes_to_write



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crime, Protective Mickey Milkovich, Violence, smitten kitten Ian Gallagher
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:11:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4297218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erica_likes_to_write/pseuds/Erica_likes_to_write
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey and his cousin, Chris, have been making a killing running scams together until Chris' face ends up on a wanted poster. Mickey reluctantly recruits his annoying red headed co-worker to be his new scamming partner. But when things turn dangerous fast, will Mickey's loyalty lie with his family or the boy he's definitely not (maybe) in love with?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Mickey liked to think of himself as the brains of the operation. He rolled his eyes heavenward as the sound of giggling echoed down from upstairs. Noises really carried in those big old brownstones with their high ceilings and hardwood floors. He heard a muffled version of his cousin's deep voice and then the giggling resumed. Mickey sighed deeply as he went back to his task.

It was some sort of toy workbench for toddlers. Very colorful and very plastic. The mark had been complaining that her husband had promised to put the toy together for their kid before he left for his business trip and then sped off to the airport with the toy still in pieces sealed in the box.

Mickey didn't mind putting it together. It gave him something to do while Chris fucked the bitch upstairs. Besides, he was good at putting things together. And it felt good to be accomplishing something because, truth be told, he sometimes felt somewhat useless in these scams.

So yeah, at times he needed to remind himself that he was always the one to think up the scam. He was the one to write and post the ad online. And he would read through the responses to look for potential victims. He had a good eye for weeding out the vulnerable ones.

But that was where Chris came in. Chris was the bait, always, no matter what. Chris would take names that Mickey had weeded out, and arrange a follow-up phone call. And, from there, Chris would choose their next victim.

The scams were pretty much always the same. Mickey would post an ad offering some sort of in-home service, usually painting or handyman work or sometimes hanging a TV or large picture. It was always something that a husband should be doing but wasn't, leaving the wife feeling neglected, unloved, and majorly pissed off. Chris would be flirty on the phone and see if she responded. They almost always did. When Chris and Mickey showed up for the job, Chris would sneak off to get hot and heavy with the lady and Mickey would barge in at some point snapping pictures. From there, getting money out of the bitches was cake.

Chris had a gift for being seductive. He'd been a ladies man all his life and Mickey had always watched in awe. Though they had grown up in the same house and had always been close, Mickey was the opposite of Chris when it came to being seductive. While Chris drew people in, Mickey pushed them away. He didn't like people and they didn't like him. Mickey knew that people found him off putting, repulsive even, and most of the time Mickey was just fine with that. With the exception of Chris, he liked to keep a good distance between himself and other people, even his brother and sister.

So yeah, most people tried to stay as far from Mickey Milkovich as possible. But with any rule, there is usually one exception. And, in Mickey’s case, that exception was Ian Gallagher. The redhead worked with Mickey at the Kash N Grab convenience store and couldn't have made it any more obvious that he had a ridiculous, embarrassing crush on Mickey.

They'd been working together about a year. Mickey worked security while Ian worked the register. When they first started working together, all Mickey knew about him was that he was that arrogant fuck Lip Gallagher's little brother and Frank the drunk's son. Ian was skinny and freckly and all around annoying as fuck.

Ian would try to talk to him and Mickey would ignore him. But eventually, Mickey began allowing himself to be engaged in conversation. It was a boring ass job and Mickey would let Ian ramble on about ROTC and his family and whatever because it helped pass the time.

Chris knew about Mickey's admirer and found it hilarious. He gave Mickey endless shit about it. Mickey found it annoying but also a little comforting because that was how Chris first let Mickey know that he knew he was gay. He did it subtly, while making fun of Ian. Chris knew that Mickey had no interest in Ian but, apparently, he also knew that Mickey was into dudes.

It had been late on a fall evening the month before and Mickey and Chris had been sharing a joint. Chris had been complaining that he always had to be the bait. 

"Why does it always have to be me? Just saying."

"Don't look at me. No one wants to fuck me."

Chris scoffed and Mickey continued. "Not my fault people don't like me."

"Well, maybe if you fucking showered once in a while."

Mickey raised an eyebrow. "I shower."

Chris laughed. "Right. About every two weeks." 

Mickey laughed because it was true. He cared little for personal hygiene. "I am who I am. If people don't like me, they can go fuck themselves."

Chris's mouth curled into a smirk. Mickey eyed him warily. "What?"

Chris shrugged. "Not everyone finds you repulsive, Mickey. I know a little redhead who would give his left nut to get in your pants."

Mickey laughed. "Would you give that poor kid a break? You are always ragging on him."

"You should just fuck him already. Give him something to live for."

And something passed between them in that moment, an understanding. Chris knew he was gay and was okay with it. Mickey felt himself relax. "He's not my type."

"Nerdy gingers who never shut the fuck up? Shocking."

Mickey snickered and cracked open a beer. "He's not that bad."

"Seriously, though, that is one smitten kitten, Mickey."

Mickey chuckled as he lit a cigarette. "Yeah well, Gallagher is poor as fuck so that's neither here nor there. You're gonna have to keep working as bait so shut the fuck up about it."

 

Mickey headed upstairs after waiting the agreed upon ten minutes. After reaching the upper landing, he looked around. There were several doors but only one of them was closed. "Bingo." Mickey pulled his phone out of his back pocket as he approached the door. He switched the phone to camera mode before swinging the door open.

Chris and the wife were naked and tangled together above the bedspread on the king size bed. Mickey snapped a bunch of pictures before the wife could untangle herself from Chris. She quickly began dressing and looked questioningly between Mickey and Chris. "What the hell?"

Chris just grinned at her as he sat up and pulled his shirt over his head.

Mickey approached the woman, who was now fully clothed. "You got cash in the house or do we need to take a trip over to the ATM?"

She looked at him incredulously. "What?"

Mickey held up his phone so she could see the image captured on it. "Wouldn't want hubby finding out what you've been up to while he's at work, right?"

"Fuck you!"

Mickey raised his eyebrows.

She turned to Chris. "Is he serious?"

Chris shrugged. "You wanna risk finding out?”

She bit her lip, silently deliberating for a moment before turning back to Mickey. "Fine. I have two grand in the house. That's all you're getting."

Mickey nodded and slipped his phone into his back pocket while shooting a grin at Chris.

The woman sighed as she removed the cash from her wallet. "Can you at least paint my fucking living room?"

 

Mickey was late to work that afternoon. The scam had been in a far out suburb and they had hit traffic returning to the city. Mickey was tense in the passenger seat as he obsessively watched the minutes tick by. His boss, Kash Karib, was a pussy (he had to hire Mickey to handle security, after all) but he could be a hard ass when it came to punctuality. And Mickey didn't want to be fired. It was an easy job that paid decently. It beat working at the meat packing plant, that was for sure.

So when they were back in their neighborhood, twenty minutes past the start of Mickey's shift, he practically leapt out of the car before Chris had fully stopped. He rushed to the front door and was shocked to find it locked.

Mickey bit his lip in confusion. Had there been some type of emergency? Maybe something happened to one of Kash's kids? But Ian was scheduled to work and the kid never called out. And besides, the sign in the window said open and all the lights were on. So someone was there.

Mickey tried the door one more time before heading around back. Sure enough, the back door was unlocked. He entered the store and looked around curiously. "Hello? Gallagher?"

Mickey was answered by silence. He took a few steps forward and, suddenly, he saw a flash of movement from the right corner of his vision. Mickey turned and the scene playing out through the window to the walk in freezer was enough to make his bottom lip hang open and his eyebrows reach the fucking sky. Right there in the freezer, Ian was fucking Kash.

Ian had his pants down around his ankles and was pounding into his boss, who was bent over some cases of Dr. Pepper. The words tumbled out of Mickey's mouth quietly and slowly: "What . . . the . . . fuck?"

Ian was still a kid and his boss (his fucking boss!) had to be in his late thirties at least. He must be some type of fucking pedophile.

But as he watched, and he couldn't seem to take his eyes away, Mickey, who himself only recently turned eighteen, noticed for the first time that Ian really wasn't all that scrawny anymore. He was still skinny but, now that Mickey saw him without a shirt, he was looking pretty toned. The kid had definitely been working out. Mickey also noticed that Ian's freckles seemed to have faded. They were still there, and they were literally everywhere, even on the kid's damn eyelids, but they were somehow softer. And there was something about the confident way Ian was pounding into the older man that was exposing Mickey to a side of Ian he had never noticed before. This kid in front of him was so different from the shy, awkward one who couldn't keep a grin off his face the second Mickey entered the room.

Suddenly, Ian turned and saw Mickey. Their eyes met and Ian's grew wide. He mouthed the word "fuck" and backed away from Kash, quickly pulling his pants up. Confused, Kash turned to Ian, then followed his gaze to Mickey, and then also began dressing frantically.

Mickey was suddenly uncomfortable and walked to the front of the store. He unlocked the door and then picked up a magazine. He pretended to read it as he heard Kash head out the back and Ian sat down on the stool behind the register.

Mickey stared at the magazine but all he saw was Ian fucking Kash. Finally, he looked up at Ian, who was looking right at him. "Are you fucking serious, Gallagher? Towelhead? You're fucking Towelhead?"

Ian shrugged, looking a little sheepish. He was definitely lacking the usual giddiness he exhibited around Mickey. "Don't call him that."

"Why him? Is he seriously the best you can do?"

Now Ian looked slightly offended as he put on his name tag and avoided eye contact. "Whatever. He's nice."

"He's nice?"

"Yeah. And he buys me stuff." Ian looked up at Mickey and there was a challenge in his eyes. 

"But he's your fucking boss." For some reason, this just wasn't sitting right with Mickey. He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Though he couldn't really fathom why he gave a shit.

"So?"

"Your fucking brother know about this shit?" Mickey knew for a fact that Ian and Lip were close. Ian idolized the guy and Lip seemed to watch over Ian like a pit bull.

Ian scoffed. "Of course not. It's not his business, is it? Or yours?" Ian got up and started unloading a case of Ritz Crackers onto a shelf. 

Mickey shook his head. "Fuck, Gallagher. Just . . . fuck."

 

The remainder of Mickey's shift went smoothly. Mickey figured that Kash would be so freaked out about what Mickey had seen, that he wouldn't dare penalize Mickey for being late. So that was a relief. And Mickey's minor trauma at seeing Ian fucking Kash wore off quickly. And as the two settled into their regular routine of Ian chatting away and Mickey pretending not to give a shit about anything Ian had to say but actually kind of giving a shit, Mickey wondered why he had been disturbed at all. Everyone needed to get laid, right? Gallagher had to take it where he could get it. Mickey himself wasn't above some pretty awful fucks, if he was being perfectly honest.

 

Later that night, Mickey and Chris sat on the floor of Mickey's bedroom with the payout from the day's scam laid out between them. Mickey liked to organize the bills into neat stacks as he counted it out. He grinned as he placed the final hundred dollar bill on one of the piles. "Two grand. Not bad."

"Damn straight!" Chris let out a laugh before popping open a beer and handing it to Mickey. "Did you see the size of that house, though? Dude's definitely got more than two grand in the bank. Swear to God, these bastards keep their wives on a short leash, man. So fucking rich and only giving them a couple grand at a time."

Mickey chugged his beer and then nodded as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He let out a loud burp. "It's all about control. Gotta keep 'em coming back. Fuck, the money's probably the only reason they stay."

"And they gotta protect their money from scumbags like us!" Mickey and Chris knocked their bottles together in a casual toast to their success. Two grand was a lot of money and they were feeling good.

Mickey downed his second beer and sat back against the wall, resting his hand on his stomach, now bloated and uncomfortable after chugging the two carbonated beverages. "Weird shit happened at work today."

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

Mickey nodded. "Found out that Gallagher has been fucking Kash."

Chris looked stunned. "No fucking way! Kid's like twelve years old."

Mickey chuckled as he lit a cigarette. "Nah, just looks young. He's gotta be at least sixteen. Pretty sure he mentioned something about only having one more year of high school."

Chris shook his head as he grabbed the cigarette from Mickey and took a drag. "Still. That's just weird, man. Kash is fucking old. And fucking creepy." Chris shuddered.

Mickey popped the cap off another beer and shrugged. "The guy buys him shit."

"Doesn't that make Gallagher some kind of whore or something?"

Mickey ran his tongue along his bottom lip, contemplating his cousin's words. Something about the words Gallagher and whore just didn't mesh with him. "Kind of funny coming from you, man. I mean, shit's not that different from what we're doing if you really think about it. Kid's gotta fuck someone. Might as well get something out of it, right?"

Chris looked pensive a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I can see that."

Suddenly, Mandy appeared in the doorway. The petite brunette leaned against the doorframe, pushing her heavy bangs off her forehead before rubbing her eyes. "Hey. Can I join you?"

Mickey looked up at his sister and immediately motioned with a tip of his head for her to sit beside him. His gaze followed her as she sat down next to him and cracked open a beer. Mickey noted the dark circles under her eyes and the way her tiny shoulders appeared slightly more bony than usual. Mickey and Chris were silent, waiting for her to speak.

Mandy took a long chug of beer before sitting back, her head resting against the wall and her legs stretched out in front of her. "Four hours straight. That's how long he cried today. I timed it."

Mickey lit a cigarette. He didn't know anything about babies but four hours did seem excessive. "You take him to the doctor?"

Mandy nodded. "She said it's colic.”

"Can she give him medicine or some shit?"

Mandy reached out and took the cigarette out of her brother's hand. "Gotta wait it out until he outgrows it."

Chris cracked open another beer. "How long?"

Mandy sighed. "Could take anywhere from three months to a year."

"Fuck! Come here." Chris reached over and pulled Mandy close. She seemed to melt into it and leaned her head on her cousin's shoulder. Her eyes were watery and Mickey could see her lip tremble slightly.

"Doctor said maybe his tummy hurts. Recommended a special formula but I went to the store and it costs a fortune. She said it probably won't help anyway."

Mickey counted out five-hundred dollars from his cut and handed it to her. "Here. Go get the formula. It's worth a try."

"Formula doesn't cost five-hundred bucks, Mick."

Mickey shrugged. "Take it. We already have our next job lined up."

Mandy looked up at Chris and he nodded. She took the money and slipped it into the front pocket of her jeans.

Mickey looked at his watch. "It's late. I gotta hit the hay, douchebags. Got work in the morning."

The three stood. As Mandy and Chris made their way to the door, Chris gave Mickey the finger over his shoulder while Mandy punched him lightly in the arm. "Later, asshole."


	2. Chapter 2

Mickey had been dreaming about a crying baby and awoke to his screaming nephew. He sighed as he wrapped a pillow around his head, covering both ears in an attempt to drown out the wailing. It worked and he was on the verge of sleep when Iggy burst into his room, Chris following closely behind. Mickey startled at the sound of the door opening and sat up, rubbing his eyes and glaring at his grinning older brother. "What the fuck? I don't have to be up for another hour!"

"Look what I found when I went out for smokes this morning."

Iggy held up a piece of paper. Mickey's eyes were still adjusting to being open and he squinted at the paper. It was a wanted poster with a drawing of a man's face. "Who the fuck is that?"

Chris snatched it out of Iggy's hands and pushed it right into Mickey's sleepy face. "It's me, asshole!"

Suddenly alert, Mickey grabbed the paper out of his cousin's fingers and stared at it. It barely looked like him but there was a slight resemblance and the poster gave a short description of the scams they'd been pulling. "I wonder which one went to the cops?"

Chris began pacing anxiously. "My face is out there. We're fucked, Mick. It's over."

Mickey put the paper down and ran a hand through his hair. "Calm down. We knew this wouldn't last forever. Just calm the fuck down. We'll figure something out."

Iggy chuckled, clearly amused by their situation. "I can hook you up at the meat packing plant, dude."

Chris' eyes widened in horror and he looked to Mickey in desperation. Mickey rolled his eyes and got out of bed. "What the fuck did I just say to you? Calm the fuck down. Iggy, no one wants your shit job but fuck you very much for offering." Mickey began to get dressed as a snickering Iggy walked a panicked Chris out of the room, the sound of a baby's cries still echoing through the house.

 

It was a slow day at the store and Mickey felt restless and anxious. Ian was quieter than usual, which wasn't helping the situation. Mickey could pass a lot of time listening to Ian ramble on about his siblings or ROTC or any of his other bullshit. After staring at the same magazine page for twenty minutes, Mickey looked at Ian.

Ian was staring off into space. His forehead was crinkled as if he was worried about something and his lips were parted in a thoughtful way. Ian had bright red hair that was curly and cut short. His green eyes were almost excessively large and his mouth rather small. There was something delicate and almost feminine about Ian's face. And yet, the guy was tall and lanky and very boyish at the same time. Mickey could understand Kash being attracted to him. Ian was actually fucking hot . . .

"Mick?"

Ian's voice broke him from his thoughts and he realized that Ian must have felt Mickey staring at him. Mickey felt dazed. "What?"

"You okay?"

Mickey closed the magazine and settled into a defensive posture. "Of course I'm fucking okay. What's it look like?"

Ian was looking at him curiously but then shrugged. "You were just staring at me kind of intensely."

"Fuck off. Just wondering why you're so quiet today. You're the one acting fucking weird. Should be talking my ear off like you usually do."

Ian smiled but it wasn't the giddy smile that Ian usually had when he had Mickey's attention. "I flunked my calculus test."

"You think you're ever gonna use calculus in your life? No. So who gives a shit?"

"The admissions panel at West Point apparently." Ian's smile faded. "Lip tutored me every night last week to get me ready. I don't know how I messed it up."

Mickey didn't think he had ever seen Ian appear so defeated before. Usually, all it took was the tiniest bit of attention from Mickey and the kid was grinning wider than Mickey had his entire life. And if Mickey laughed at one of his lame jokes or puns, Ian was over the fucking moon. This new, defeated Ian was unexpected and a little jarring. "If you wanna join the military, there's an army recruitment center two blocks that way."

"I want to be an officer."

"Don't officers get shot first?"

Ian finally smiled fully and Mickey felt oddly relieved. Shit was already falling apart at home, he didn't need Gallagher getting all depressed and mopey on him at work.

Mickey put the magazine back in the rack before turning back to Ian. "So you've got like a million younger brothers and sisters running around your house, right?"

Ian chuckled softly. "I got three. Two brothers and a sister. Why?"

Mickey rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. He hated asking for help, whatever the capacity. He was self sufficient if he was anything. He pushed through his pride. "My sister, Mandy, had a baby two weeks ago. Kid never shuts the fuck up. Colic they call it? Something like that."

Ian was silent, clearly waiting for Mickey to continue. Mickey raised his eyebrows expectantly and Ian realized he was finished. "So he cries all the time?"

"Yeah, asshole. That's what colic means, right? I gotta spell everything out for you? Jesus fucking Christ the kid fucking cries nonstop. You got some advice or are you wasting my fucking time here?"

Ian's smile grew wider. How he managed to find Mickey's abrasive personality so endearing was beyond Mickey. Fuck, Mickey sounded like an asshole even to himself. And yet, here was Gallagher, smiling at him like a fucking puppy. "Does she walk with him? Bounce him? Babies like to move. You can't sit. They don't like that."

Mickey's eyebrows shot into his forehead. "That's your advice? Don't sit down? You're a wealth of fucking knowledge, Gallagher."

Ian laughed. "Does she have a swing? Liam loved the swing. He used to lay in it for hours, nap in it and everything. We still have it. I could bring it over tonight."

Mickey couldn't imagine that a two-week old baby would be ready for any sort of swing but Ian was looking at him with a combination of hope and apprehension on his blushing face and Mickey couldn't get himself to disappoint him. Besides, Mickey's family didn't turn down free shit. They could always sell it if they couldn't use it.

"Yeah, alright."

Ian was beaming. "Great! So I'll come by after work?"

"Yeah, I'm on . . ."

"I know where you live, Mick. You're like three blocks over from me."

Before Mickey could respond, Chris entered the store. He was wearing a dark hoodie with the hood pulled over his head. His hands were in his pockets and he appeared agitated. He quickly approached Mickey. "Dude, I'm freaking out. Can't stop looking over my shoulder. Seeing fucking cops everywhere I go."

Mickey shook his head in irritation as Ian, realizing that he was now being excluded from the conversation, went to stack some cookies on a shelf a few feet away. Chris visited Mickey at the store frequently but rarely acknowledged Ian or included him in the conversation. "I told you to chill the fuck out."

"The fuck are we gonna do for money, Mick?!”

"I don't know. Maybe get a fucking job?!" Mickey saw Ian stifle a giggle out of the corner of his eye and he felt the corners of his own mouth lifting slightly. Chris glared at him.

"Come on, Mick. I'm serious."

Mickey sighed deeply. "Take that fucking ridiculous hood off your head. Shit's gonna be fine. We'll come up with something new. I've already got a few ideas." Mickey had no ideas but Chris looked relieved and calm as he pushed the hoodie from his head and nodded at Mickey.

Just then, the door swung open and a middle aged man entered. He nodded briefly at Mickey before turning to the magazine rack.

Mickey lowered his voice significantly. "No one is coming for you. That picture looks nothing like you. But you do need to lay low for awhile. We need a new scam, one where you can work behind the scenes."

"But you just said the picture looks nothing like me!"

Mickey glanced at the older man, checking his proximity and lowered his voice further. Mickey's gaze also swept over Ian, who appeared engrossed in his task but who Mickey was sure was straining to hear every word. Mickey put a hand on his cousin's arm. "Everything is going to be fine. You need to relax and trust me."

Chris nodded slowly. "Okay. I trust you."

Mickey nodded back. "Good. Now get the fuck outta here. Drive Mandy to the store so she can get that baby formula or some shit."

As Chris turned to leave, they both froze as their gazes reached the older man who was now shamelessly staring at Ian's ass. Ian, bent over a crate of soup cans, was blissfully unaware. Chris turned to Mickey, a disgusted look on his face, and whispered: "Old men are drawn to that kid like flies to shit."

Mickey could only shrug. "Get the fuck out of here. We'll talk tonight." Mickey watched his cousin leave the store and then turned to find the man still staring at Ian's ass.

 

Mickey opened the front door of his house to find Ian standing on the stoop with a backpack on his shoulder, a large plastic contraption in his arms and a smile on his face. "Hey, Mick!"

Mickey rolled his eyes at Ian's almost perpetual enthusiasm and stepped aside so the other boy could come in. "Your timing is good, Gallagher. Baby hasn't stopped crying all day."

Mickey closed the door and watched as Ian looked around, taking in the scene. Mandy was in the kitchen, attempting to assemble some sort of dinner, while her baby screamed his head off in his bassinet. Meanwhile, Chris sat on the couch playing video games at a volume loud enough to wake the dead. There was laundry and papers on every surface. Ian's eyes widened but, after only a moment, his smile was back.

Ian stepped into the living room and let the backpack slide off his shoulder and onto the floor. "This an okay place for the swing?"

He was looking at Mickey. "The fuck you asking me for? Hey, Mandy! Come here."

Mickey heard the sound of pots and pans being thrown into the sink and then his sister appeared beside them. She looked at Ian. "Who the hell are you?"

Despite Mandy's somewhat threatening tone, Ian's smile persisted. "Hey. I'm Ian. I work with Mickey at the store."

Mandy nodded then motioned to the swing. "What's that?"

Ian looked down at the swing as if he had momentarily forgotten it. Then, he swiftly unfolded it and set it on the ground. Mickey looked at it. It had a baby seat and a mobile above with colorful little lambs. Ian pressed a switch and the lambs moved in a circle while music played and the seat swung gently back and forth. "You can keep it. It's my brother's swing. He's three now so we don't need it anymore. Hopefully, my mom's done having babies. You never know with her though." Ian looked troubled for a moment but then the grin was back. "I put fresh batteries in for you. Should last a while before you have to change them."

Ian looked hopefully at Mandy but she just stared at him blankly. A pang of worry swept through Mickey but then he figured his sister was just exhausted.

The baby was still screaming and Ian's eyes moved from Mandy's face to the bassinet. His forehead crinkled in that worried way that Mickey had seen earlier that day in the store. Ian looked back at Mandy. "Can I pick up the baby?"

Mandy nodded so Ian crossed the room and lifted the crying baby from the bassinet. Ian held him gently, with one hand supporting his head and the other holding the little body firmly against his chest. "What's his name?"

Mandy looked at Ian skeptically. "Charlie."

"Hi, Charlie." And then Ian started to move. He bounced gently, bending at the knees and switching from foot to foot with each bounce. He made a shushing sound as he did so, as if telling the baby to be quiet. He looked absolutely ridiculous and Mickey was about to tell him this when the most amazing thing happened: the baby stopped crying.

Mickey looked at Ian in disbelief. "He sleeping?"

Ian grinned at Mickey, clearly pleased with himself. "Nope, just content." Ian turned his body and Mickey saw his nephew's eyes wide open. His wrinkly little face snuggled against Ian's chest.

Mickey looked at Mandy, who was staring at Ian in disbelief. She took a step closer and regarded her baby. "How did you do that?"

Ian shrugged, continuing to bounce. "Liam was like this. Needed to be bounced all the time or he’d cry. My mom wasn't around so it was my job to take care of him after school. I used to bounce him for hours. It's all in the knees really. You want to try?"

Mandy shook her head and took a step back. Mickey rolled his eyes. "Jesus, Mandy. It's a baby not a fucking grenade."

"Fucking scarier than a grenade," said Chris.

Mickey hadn't even realized that Chris had gotten up from the couch until he spoke. He stood beside Mickey, watching Ian carefully.

Ian was still looking at Mandy. "Nah, he's not so bad. He's just tired and doesn't know how to soothe himself."

Ian was still bouncing and Mickey watched as the baby's eyes grew heavy. After another minute, the little eyes slipped shut. Mickey, Mandy and Chris stood in a line watching as Ian bent down and slipped the baby gently into the swing. He strapped him in and then set the swing on the first setting. The music played softly as the baby gently swung. Ian stood up and turned, finding three sets of eyes looking at him as if he were some sort of magician.

Ian blushed as he nodded at them awkwardly. "So um, I guess I'll go?"

Mandy approached him quickly. "That was amazing! Will you come back tomorrow?"

"It's really not that hard. I can teach you."

Mandy put a hand on his arm and spoke in a suggestive tone. "I'd rather watch you do it. I think you're my knight in shining armor." 

The look on Mandy's face was absolutely predatory and Ian was still blushing but looked a little scared now too. Mickey sighed deeply. He would have to break it to his sister sooner rather than later that she was definitely not Gallagher's type. Then again, it was kind of amusing seeing Ian squirm. But at that moment, all Mickey wanted to do was usher Ian out of the house quickly so they could all take advantage of Charlie's slumber to get some sleep. "Alright, Gallagher, time to go. Thanks for the swing shit."

"Yeah, okay. I've got a history quiz to study for anyway." Ian headed for the door looking relieved to have escaped from Mandy's intense attention.

Mickey and Ian met at the front door and Mickey pulled it open for him. He looked over his shoulder and saw that Mandy and Chris were talking in the kitchen before turning back to Ian. "Mandy hasn't been herself lately. I think this helped. So yeah . . . thanks, Ian." He thumbed at his lip nervously. Mickey couldn’t remember the last time he had thanked anyone.

Ian nodded. For once, he kept his expression neutral, as if he knew that Mickey needed him to stay low key at that moment. "Sure, Mick." And then he was gone. Mickey watched Ian's red hair disappear into the night like the flame of a candle being slowly extinguished.

 

"Ian fucking Gallagher."

Mickey looked annoyed he as stood in his boxers and pulled a tee shirt over his head. He was exhausted and not at all pleased that Chris had followed him into his room. "Excuse me?"

Chris wore a smug grin, his confidence apparently back in full force. "I solved our problem. Ian Gallagher."

"The fuck are you talking about?"

"You see the way that old guy was checking him out today in the store? And then how Mandy was looking at him tonight? And we already knew about Kash."

"Chris.”

"I was looking at him tonight and the kid is fucking good looking. Don't know why I never noticed before. I guess because I'm not into dudes." He grinned at Mickey. "But I see it now. We're gonna use Gallagher as bait and we're gonna make a fucking fortune. You're welcome." Chris looked at Mickey expectantly, grinning from ear to ear.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?!" Chris recoiled slightly and Mickey continued. "First of all, it's always been just you and me. We don't use other people in our scams. Second of all, Ian is all about hard work and his military dreams. Us working with Gallagher is like mixing Jack Daniels and fucking orange juice!"

"You're wrong, Mick. It can't be just you and me anymore. You're not cut out to work as bait, you said it yourself. Gallagher is the perfect choice."

"How do you even know we can trust him?"

"It's not about trusting him. It's about manipulating him to trust us. We're not really going to pay him his share, Mick. He likes you. He's liked you for a long time. We use that to our advantage."

"The guy isn't dumb, Chris."

"Look, he's gonna get shit out of it. I'm not saying we don't pay him. Of course we will. I'm just saying we won't be splitting it three ways like he thinks we are."

"How are we going to convince him to do this?"

"He's been telling you details about his life four nights a week for the past year. Use that shit. Plus, he wants to please you. You think he brought that swing over because he genuinely cares about a baby he's never met? He did it for you, Mick. To get close to you. That's what you'll use to pull him into this."

Mickey chewed on his lip as Chris looked at him expectantly. Mickey had a bad feeling about this. But, then again, they needed money and were pretty much out of options. He nodded. "Yeah, okay. But if this shit blows up in our faces, it's your fucking fault."

 

The next day, Mickey was late arriving to the store. Already seated at the register, Ian reached into the cabinet behind him and pulled out Mickey's black jacket that had "security" written on the chest. "You left it here last night."

Mickey took the jacket. "Thanks, man. I was looking all over my house for it. That's why I'm late."

Ian grinned. "Mickey, you're always late."

Mickey raised his eyebrows. "You wanna say that again?" But his anger dissipated after a moment. "Fuck it, you're right."

Ian shrugged. "How's Charlie?"

Mickey groaned, shrugging on the jacket. "Rough night."

"If you want, I could go over after work tonight and show Mandy how to swaddle."

"Swaddle? What the fuck is that?"

"Just a way to wrap babies that makes them cry less. Might help."

Mickey nodded. "Yeah whatever. Sounds good. Listen, I was thinking about how you've got all those sisters and brothers at home and how you mentioned that Fiona hasn't been making much at the diner and God knows this place pays shit." Mickey paused and wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs. Jesus, why was he so nervous? Ian was looking at him curiously. "I just . . . I thought you might want in on something I’ve got going on with Chris."

"What kind of thing?"

Mickey rubbed at the back of his neck. "Chris thought of this idea to get a bunch of cash out of some old queens."

"How?"

"We'd bait them into a compromising position and then use it against them. Use that to get them to, you know, pay us off."

"What's the bait?"

Mickey ran his tongue nervously over his bottom lip. "You."

"Me?"

Mickey suddenly felt defensive, which helped to alleviate his nerves. "You've always got all these grandpa's drooling over your ass. We get you in a hotel room with one of them, Fiona won't have to worry about bills for a month."

Ian looked concerned as he spoke in a small voice. "Would I have to fuck them?"

"Fuck no!" Even as the words were coming out of his mouth, Mickey didn't know exactly what he was basing them on. Chris hadn't explicitly stated that Ian would fuck the guys but hadn't that been the implication? In the past, Chris had always had sex with their marks. So why would it be any different with Ian as bait?

And yet, at that moment, looking at Ian, who appeared a little scared and very young, the idea that he would be expected to fuck the guys seemed out of the question.

Ian looked relieved and it occurred to Mickey that maybe Chris was right and that Ian would agree to anything to get closer to him. Mickey didn't like the idea. It made him feel like he was somehow responsible for Ian. And Mickey already had too many people that he felt responsible for.

Ian still looked unsure as he nodded. "Okay. When?"

"Yeah? Just like that? Damn, Gallagher, you don't take much convincing!" Mickey started to laugh and soon Ian was smiling despite the blush that had spread across his face.

"My family needs the money."

Mickey nodded. "I think Chris wants to start tonight. You available?"

"Yeah. What do I . . . I mean, what do I wear?"

"I don't know. Just look good, I guess."

"And we split the money three ways?"

"Yeah, three ways." Mickey grabbed an Us Weekly from the magazine rack and skimmed the pages as he tried to ignore the unfamiliar feeling of guilt running through his body.


	3. Chapter 3

Ian met Mickey and Chris in the lobby of the hotel at ten o'clock that night. He was wearing jeans with a button down plaid shirt and tennis shoes. Even though he was dressed casually, he was more formal than the tee shirts Mickey was used to seeing him in. And he appeared to have spent a little extra time styling his hair. Mickey couldn't help but think how Ian was really pretty adorable with the red hair and freckles and his little Irish nose. And then he wanted to punch himself in the face for having such ridiculous thoughts.

Chris was also looking Ian over but he didn't look pleased. "You didn't have anything better to wear? You look really fucking young."

Ian shrugged. "This is how I look. I always look young."

"Isn't that the idea? Like his appeal or whatever?" Mickey asked.

Chris sighed. "Let's just hope they let you in the fucking bar. Mick, we should get going. We don't exactly fit in here. Don't want to start attracting attention."

Mickey looked down at himself and realized the jeans and black hoodie probably weren't the best choice for looking inconspicuous at a four star hotel. "Gallagher, you head to the bar. I'll go up to the room and wait for you there. You know what to do? Want to go over it again?"

Ian shook his head. "No, I got it. I'll see you upstairs." Mickey nodded and Ian headed off in the direction of the bar.

Chris turned to Mickey. "Remember to wait until they're fucking to take the picture. The more incriminating the image, the more generous the guy will be."

Mickey nodded, not quite able to look Chris in the eyes. 

"I'm gonna take off. Probably hang out at The Alibi while I wait for you. Remember not to let Gallagher see the money. Send him home after. You and me will count the money tonight and figure out his cut. Won't be anywhere near one third though."

Mickey nodded. "I'll see you back at the house."

 

He had been in the dark closet for twenty minutes and he felt ridiculous. He had his phone with him and had been looking around online trying to pass the time but he couldn't focus on anything. He was too consumed by the scam. And he felt like a moron hiding in a closet but it felt too risky to wait until he heard the key to hide.

Mickey had the closet door slightly ajar and he looked around the room. It was a small room (typical of a downtown Chicago hotel room). There was a king size bed, a desk, and a couple end tables. The large window was covered up by heavy drapes. As his eyes passed over the big empty bed, Mickey realized just how long it had been since he had fucked around with anyone.

Mickey had accepted himself and his proclivities a long time ago. It hadn't been that difficult. Mickey knew that he was tough as nails and could take down guys twice his size easily. He had served his first stint in juvie at only thirteen years old and he had survived just fine. He was younger than Iggy and Chris and yet, he was the decision maker, the brains in the family. They listened to him and he always had the final word. Mickey was a badass who didn't take shit from anyone. He was confident in this and knew that enjoying fucking around with guys didn't diminish his masculinity. Mickey was nobody's bitch.

Any yet, he did struggle somewhat with figuring out how to get the dick he desired so badly. For years, Mickey had watched enviously as Chris effortlessly picked up women at The Alibi and other bars. It was always just sex and hardly ever with the same person twice. This was what Mickey craved: anonymous fucks in bathrooms of bars or even the backseat of his car. But it was more complicated for him. He didn't hang out at gay bars or clubs, had no desire to, so finding people to fuck had always been a difficult task. Therefore, Mickey had embarrassingly few sexual encounters under his belt. He had been battling a particularly brutal dry spell the past few months and he was becoming increasingly frustrated. Porn only got him so far. He needed the feeling of solid flesh beneath his fingertips.

Maybe that was why he couldn't get that image of Ian fucking Kash in the freezer out of his mind. When he had initially seen it, he had been repulsed. But later that night, Mickey found himself thinking about it almost obsessively. How long had it been going on and how often? Was it just fucking or were there feelings involved? Was Kash Ian's first? The kid had always seemed so young and innocent to Mickey but he sure didn't look inexperienced that day. Mickey was jealous. He realized that kind of arrangement was exactly what he needed in his life: a fuck buddy that he could count on to get him off on a regular basis. Mickey felt his dick hardening at the thought of it and, just as he reached down to palm himself through his pants, the door swung open and Ian and some gray haired dude entered the room.

Mickey had only left the closet door open a crack but he could see well enough. The guy was taller than Ian with gray hair and a fit build. He looked to be in his late forties, if Mickey had to guess. The guy immediately started taking off his clothes and Mickey could see the light reflecting off the guy's platinum wedding band.

Ian was across the room doing the same thing. He looked hesitant. Mickey felt anger towards the old dirtbag. It was obvious that Ian was just a kid. Mickey wasn't a moral man by any stretch. But he had a real hatred for old pervs who preyed on kids. He'd watched his sister dealing with them since she hit puberty. As Mickey stood watching the old guy strip off his clothes and head across the room to Ian, it occurred to him that Ian may have been dealing with that shit for as long as Mandy. Some kids were probably magnets for those fuckers.

Ian was sitting on the edge of the bed in his boxers. Just as he finished pulling his tee shirt over his head, the old guy had his hands on his shoulders. Ian had his back to Mickey, so Mickey couldn't see his face but he could see Ian's freckly shoulders tense under the other man's touch.

"Do you like it rough?" The man asked.

"Whatever you're into." Ian answered in the most innocent voice he could manage, causing Mickey to roll his eyes.

Suddenly, the man grabbed Ian from behind and threw him down on his stomach. Ian grunted in surprise but before he could react, the old guy was on top of him, grinding against him roughly through his underwear. "Jesus," Ian hissed.

The guy smirked down at him. "You like that?" And then he grabbed Ian's underwear and started to pull it down.

That was his cue. Mickey stepped out from the closet, iPhone in hand. "Say cheese, motherfucker!" And he started snapping.

The guy looked more confused than upset. Still on top of Ian, he turned to Mickey, eyes blinking against the flash of the camera. "What the hell?"

And then Mickey punched him in the jaw. "That rough enough for you, asshole?"

The guy moaned in pain as he held his jaw and Ian was able to roll out from under him. He stood up from the bed and started pulling his jeans on.

Mickey grabbed the old guy's phone and wallet off the end table. He pressed the home button and a picture of a woman and a little girl came on the screen. Mickey flashed it at the guy with a grin. "How do you think your wife will react to the pictures I took of you on top of a teenage boy?"

The guy sat up still cradling his jaw. He looked at Ian and then back at Mickey. "What's going on here? What the hell do you want?"

"How about you and I take a trip to the ATM and no one ever knows we were here?"

The guy stood up. He made his way across the room and began pulling on his pants. Then, he looked up at Mickey thoughtfully. "If you're going to take my money, the least you could do is have the twink suck me off."

Mickey glanced across the room and his eyes met Ian's. Ian, who was now fully dressed, had been watching the encounter and was now looking at Mickey with uncertainty.

Mickey turned back to the mark. "You think that's all he is? Some twink?"

"He gave me blue balls."

"Did he?" And then Mickey kneed him in the balls, leaving him on the ground, writhing in pain. "Now they're black and blue balls." Mickey's eyes met Ian's right as the other man fell and the look on the redhead's face was so intense that Mickey had to look away.

 

Mickey returned to the room twenty minutes later to find Ian lounging on the bed watching tv. He looked up as soon as Mickey entered. "Boom!" He threw a thick wad of cash at Ian.

Ian sat up and eyed the bundle. "It's thick. How much?"

"Six grand, baby!"

"Holy shit! I didn't think you could withdraw that much from an ATM."

Mickey shrugged. "Apparently, some people can."

Ian looked at the money in disbelief then looked back at Mickey. "Two grand each. That's amazing!"

"Yeah and all you had to do was let some perv molest you for a second or two." Mickey sat down next to Ian and rubbed his eyes. It was close to midnight and he was tired. When Ian didn't respond, Mickey looked up to see Ian grinning at him. He eyed him suspiciously, snatching the money back. "What?"

"We did good, Mick. You and me. We make good partners."

Mickey snorted. "You did alright. For your first time."

"You wanna celebrate?"

"What did you have in mind?"

Ian looked at him shyly. "We have the room for the night."

Mickey raised an eyebrow. "And? What are you suggesting?"

"I could blow you. I'd make you feel really good."

Ian's gaze was intense, his eyes wide and open. Mickey knew instantly that Ian wasn't fucking with him, that he really had just offered to suck Mickey's dick. And, tired as he was, Mickey's body responded instantly as he imagined Ian's pink lips wrapped around him. Ian's freckly hands touching him everywhere.

But then Mickey came to his senses. There was no doubt that he was attracted to Ian. But the kid liked him. And that meant he wouldn't be satisfied with just blowing Mickey. He would want more. And Mickey wouldn't give more. The last thing Mickey wanted in his life was a relationship. And Ian was the type of sensitive fucker who would want just that.

Mickey stood up. "Thanks for the offer but I don't do Kash's sloppy seconds." Ian nodded and Mickey tried not to see the hurt written plainly across his face.

Ian avoided eye contact as he pulled his sneakers on. "We should probably leave separately. Just in case."

"Good call."

"I'd like to go first, if you don't mind. It's late and I've got school tomorrow."

"Sure." Ian started to walk past Mickey and Mickey reached out and grabbed him by the arm. Ian looked at him, surprised. Mickey immediately let go and reached inside his pocket for the wad of bills. "Take your money, Ian."

Ian watched as Mickey passed him twenty hundred dollar bills. His eyes went wide seeing that much money in his hands at once.

"You did good, Ian."

The combination of the money and praise had Ian smiling his lopsided grin and Mickey felt relief that the other boy no longer wore the expression of a puppy just kicked by his owner. As always, Mickey was amazed at how big an impact he had on Ian, how the other boy seemed to hang on his every word and action. It was a little annoying. But it was also sort of nice to have that sort of influence. Mickey realized that it felt kind of good to matter to another person.

Even if that person was annoying as fuck.

 

Chris was waiting anxiously for Mickey when he got home. Chris had been waiting in Mickey's room, pacing. "Where the fuck have you been? Why didn't you call me after?"

"Calm your tits. Everything went well."

"You couldn't fucking send a text?"

"Yeah, because that's a smart idea. Incriminate myself in writing. Seriously, dude, you need to chill the fuck out. You've been a fucking basket case since you saw your face on that poster. We're supposed to be professionals here. Get your shit together."

Chris looked sheepish but was visibly calmer. "So it went well? Gallagher did okay?"

"He did awesome."

"How much you get?"

Mickey tossed him the bundle of money. "Count it."

Chris released the bills from the constraints of the rubber band holding them and quickly counted out the money. "Four grand?"

"Was five but I gave a grand to Gallagher."

Chris looked up at him sharply. "I thought we were gonna figure out his cut together. What the fuck, Mickey?"

Mickey shrugged. "One grand for him, two each for us. Seems fair to me."

"Does he know?"

"Nah, I told him the total was three. Told him we were splitting it evenly."

Chris seemed satisfied. He pocketed two grand and returned the rest to Mickey. "Good. He doesn't need to know how much you got off the guy. He's not a partner in this, he's just bait. And he definitely doesn't deserve an equal share. Eventually, it will just be you and me again. Gallagher is just temporary. Disposable."

Mickey turned his back to Chris as he stripped out of his jeans. "Sure, Chris. Sure."

 

A few minutes later, Mickey stood in the shower, hot water descending upon him. Tired as he was, he started to touch himself. He tried to focus on the porn he had watched the night before but visions of Ian Gallagher fucking his boss in that freezer flooded his mind and wouldn't leave. So he gave into it, the memory playing in his mind like some homemade sex tape until suddenly, Ian wasn't fucking Kash and he wasn't in a freezer. Suddenly it was Ian naked. Pale and skinny and firm and sexy as fuck with those fucking eyes and that perfect mouth wrapped around Mickey. He climaxed to the image of Ian sucking him off on a fancy bed in a downtown hotel room.

Afterward, Mickey leaned his forehead against the cold tile and closed his eyes. He had lied to Chris for the first time ever and was jerking off to Ian Gallagher. What the fuck was he doing?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who took the time to leave kudos and comments. I really appreciate it. :)

"You'll never believe this. The guy my sister's been dating? The car thief? Jimmy?"

"Yeah?"

"He's got this rich family over on the other side of town. Living in some mansion or some shit. So the parents take us all out to dinner last night at this fancy French restaurant downtown. And Fiona's all nervous like we're gonna embarrass her or something."

"Can't take you Gallagher’s anywhere."

Ian smiled and rolled his eyes. "Anyway, the father, Lloyd, is some sort of surgeon."

"Fancy."

"He's sitting across from me and I notice that every time I look up from my food, the guy's looking at me."

Mickey raised an eyebrow.

"I thought I must be imagining it. Like all these scams we're running are messing with me. Making me think everyone's a dirty old man. But then I go to the bathroom and he follows me in! Pushes me against the sink and starts trying to take my pants off. Wants to blow me!"

Mickey shook his head. "Damn, Gallagher. Chris was right: you're a fucking magnet for dirty old pervs. So did you let him blow you?"

Ian punched him playfully in the arm. "Of fucking course not! And you're gross for even asking!"

Mickey laughed. "Wouldn't be the first old queen you've fucked."

"That's the crazy part. I asked him if Jimmy knows he's gay and he looked offended. Said he's not gay."

Mickey shrugged. "Not everyone is as self-aware as you and I, Firecrotch."

Mickey was grinning and Ian grinned back at him. Suddenly, they heard the back door open and Kash approached. He nodded at them and Mickey noticed that he appeared tired and lacked his usual creepy pep. "Promised I'd take Linda to her ultrasound today. I'll need you guys to close up later."

"Yeah, okay," Ian said.

Mickey watched as Kash remained beside Ian while the redhead avoided eye contact. Finally, appearing defeated, Kash turned away from his employee and left the store. Ian looked relieved when the other man was gone. "What's up with you and Towelhead? He refuse to swallow or something?"

Ian grabbed a pack of gum off the counter and threw it at Mickey, hitting him in the face.

"Ow! What the fuck, Gallagher? You almost took my eye out! Why you gotta be so sensitive about your boyfriend all the sudden?"

"Fuck you and he's not my boyfriend."

"Fine. Your fuck buddy then."

"No, that's not what I meant. We're not fucking anymore. I broke up with him."

Mickey looked at him in surprise. "Why'd you do that?"

Ian shrugged and played with the zipper of his hoodie. "I don't want him anymore."

Ian finally looked up at Mickey and Mickey looked at him carefully. "So are you sad or some shit? Miss him?"

Ian shook his head. "No, not sad. I used to think I cared about him but I realized that I don't." Ian was looking at Mickey in that intense way that made Mickey squirm.

"Yeah well, good for you. Creepy old fuck had no business being with you in the first place. Fucker needs to learn to stay away from kids."

Ian grinned playfully. "I'm not a kid, Mick."

Mickey raised an eyebrow. "Oh no?"

Ian shook his head. "Definitely not."

"What were you, like fifteen when you and him started?"

Ian came out from behind the counter and got close to Mickey. He didn't touch him but their faces were inches apart. "He didn't take advantage of me, Mick. I knew what I wanted."

Mickey's hands were itching to reach out and grab onto Ian's hips. He bit his lip and looked away. "Bullshit, Ian. You're still just a kid."

Ian slowly and hesitantly reached a hand out and gently cupped Mickey's chin, turning his face so Mickey would look at him. "Mick, I know what I . . ."

They were interrupted by the chime of the front door and they both startled away from each other as Chris entered the store, eyeing them suspiciously.

"I need to talk to you. Alone." Chris said, shooting Ian a pointed look.

Mickey could feel his entire face reddening but when he looked at Ian, the redhead just looked annoyed at the interruption. Mickey ran a hand through his hair, his face burning. "Yeah, okay. Was gonna take a smoke break anyway."

Ian rolled his eyes as Mickey and Chris left the store. Once outside, Mickey immediately lit a cigarette. "What's so fucking urgent that you had to bother me at work?"

Chris was eyeing Mickey. "Yeah, you and Gallagher looked like you were working really fucking hard in there."

"Says the guy who never had a job in his fucking life."

"Whatever. I know what working looks like." Chris reached for Mickey's pocket. "Give me one of those."

"You need to get a fucking job, man. Buy your own god damn smokes. The fuck you want anyway?"

"I got an idea," Chris said, lighting up. "A way to cut costs, bring in more cash."

Mickey raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I'm listening."

"You and Gallagher have been doing great but we're wasting money on overhead."

"Overhead? What do you mean, like Gallagher's ass?" Mickey said, laughing.

"The hotel room."

"What the fuck are you talking about? We need the hotel room."

"No we don't."

"Well, then where would Gallagher . . ."

"He could go home with the guy."

"These guys are fucking married. They're not gonna bring him home."

"Then let them pay for the room. Or let them fuck in the guy's car."

"And Ian's supposed to take a picture of himself?"

"Yeah."

Mickey looked at Chris in disbelief. "Are you out of your fucking mind?!"

"Mickey . . ."

"No fucking way."

"Why not?"

"Because it's too fucking dangerous!"

"Bullshit. You don't need to be there, Mick. Gallagher can handle himself."

"No."

"Why won't you listen to me? I'm your fucking partner!"

"Because what you're suggesting is bullshit. You'd be throwing Ian to the wolves and you know it."

"Why do you care?"

"Because I'm a decent human being."

"Since when?" Mickey looked away. "I'm your partner, Mick. Not him. Not to mention your family."

"I know that."

"Oh yeah? That why you been lying to me about Gallagher's cut?"

Mickey froze. "Fuck," he muttered.

"You thought I wouldn't figure it out? I'm not fucking stupid."

"He's out there putting his ass on the line, literally, night after night. He deserves his fucking cut."

"All he does is fucking sit at a bar and look pretty. Anyone could . . ."

"And what the fuck are you doing, huh? Ian and I have a job tonight. The fuck will you be doing besides sitting around playing video games or getting shit faced at some bar?"

Chris was silent. His jaw tense.

Mickey snorted. "Yeah, I fucking thought so." Mickey stubbed out his cigarette. As he went back inside the store, he heard Chris curse as he kicked the wall.

 

Ian's eyes were on Mickey as he returned to the store. His arms were crossed in front of him and he had obviously been watching them through the window. He looked anxiously at Mickey. "What was that about? Couldn't hear you but it looked intense."

"Chris is being a douchebag. Don't know what's up with him lately."

"He's always been an asshole, Mick. You seriously never noticed?"

Mickey didn't respond. Instead, he picked up a magazine and thumbed through it as Ian mopped the floor.

 

After closing up the store, Mickey and Ian went their separate ways to get ready with plans to meet at a hotel downtown a few hours from then. It was late and Mickey was tired. He was pretty much always tired for the past month, the combination of his two jobs draining him. He rubbed his eyes sleepily as he stepped into the shower. 

Mickey didn't ask himself why he was showering. He knew Ian was, for obvious reasons. But Mickey didn't need to. Mickey worked a thick lather in his hair and didn't think about the reason he'd started showering on a regular basis. He scrubbed his feet and didn't think about how Ian trusted him, never asking to count the money himself, always assuming he was getting his fair share. Mickey didn't think about how Ian would watch him while he was intimidating the mark. He didn't think about how Ian would always greet him with a smile when he returned to the room after, so open and warm. Like Mickey was the greatest person that could have possibly walked through the door.

Before they started running scams together, Mickey brushed off Ian's adoration as a stupid crush. He hardly knew Mickey. But lately, things were different. Ian knew Mickey and trusted him, wanted to be around him all the time. Mickey had never felt liked before. It was different with Chris and Iggy and even Mandy: they needed him. Without Mickey, they wouldn't know how to survive. It had always been that way. And Mickey had always taken care of them. It had been a given, a role he'd never questioned. And so it had never been a choice - not for any of them. But Ian chose Mickey. And that was new. And the way it made Mickey feel sort of terrified him. So he tried not to think about it.

 

Chris was sitting on the couch when Mickey emerged from his room. At first, Mickey didn't think anything of it, as his cousin watched television all the time. But as Mickey walked past, he realized that the television was off. Chris was just sitting there, flicking his lighter on and off while he stared into space. "Everything set up?" Mickey asked hesitantly.

"Four Seasons."

Mickey nodded even though Chris wasn't looking at him. He was still staring straight ahead. "You okay?"

"Fuck off, Mick."

Mickey shook his head. "We'll talk later. After I come home with the money." He said the last part pointedly. When he received no response, he grabbed his wallet, keys and phone and left to meet Ian.

 

Mickey had an ominous feeling right from the beginning. He stood around the corner from the hotel, breathing into his hands, too cold to even smoke. He glanced at his watch disbelievingly. Ian was late and Mickey knew from working so long with Ian was that the guy was never late. Mickey shoved his frozen hands in his pockets and tried not to worry.

A few minutes later, Ian appeared. Unlike Mickey, he had had the good sense to wear a hat and gloves but the guy still looked cold. He rushed over and stood in front of Mickey, panting.

"Shit, Mick. I'm sorry. Some stuff went down at home."

Mickey shrugged. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Fucking Lip."

Mickey nodded. He had always hated Ian's brother. Something about the guy just rubbed Mickey the wrong way. But he was surprised by Ian's words because Ian worshipped him. Ian looked genuinely upset and Mickey wanted to comfort him but didn't have the slightest idea how. "Brothers suck sometimes," he said lamely.

Mickey looked at Ian's face carefully. There was something there that normally wasn't. Mickey couldn't identify it at first but then it hit him what it was: guilt. Mickey immediately felt on edge. "Something happen, Ian?"

Ian pulled his hat off his head and nervously ran a hand through his curly hair. "Lip knows."

“Lip knows what?"

"What we're doing."

Mickey felt his entire body tense as he rounded on Ian, getting in his face. "What the fuck, Gallagher?!"

Ian's eyes widened and he took a step back from Mickey. "He knew something was up. I'm gone all the time. He thought I was selling drugs or something. He cornered me, Mick. Wouldn't let me leave. I had to tell him!"

"Like fuck you did!" Mickey pulled his hand out of his pocket to retrieve a cigarette. Ian flinched at the movement and Mickey could see real fear in his eyes. He realized that Ian thought he was going to hit him. Mickey felt himself soften. He didn't want Ian to be afraid of him.

He lit a cigarette, took a few puffs and then offered it to Ian. Ian accepted and their fingers brushed as the cigarette was passed. "I'm sorry," Ian finally said after a minute or two of tense silence. 

"Fucking should be."

"He's the person I tell things to," Ian said quietly.

Mickey felt something stir within him and was horrified to realize that it was jealousy. He quickly pushed the feeling aside. "Well, fucking let him know that if he tells anyone, he's a dead man. I'll personally see to that. And don't think I won't because he's your brother because I just don't give a fuck."

Ian nodded. "He won't."

Ian sounded so sure and Mickey wondered when this kid started putting all this blind faith in assholes like he and Lip. "Better not." Mickey looked at his watch. "Anyway, we gotta get inside. Get this shit show going already."

Ian grinned at him and Mickey felt the corners of his own mouth inexplicably curl into a grin. He couldn't have been more disgusted with himself.

 

Time went by slowly when one was sitting in a dark closet alone. There was only so much iPhone solitaire that Mickey could tolerate. Plus, Mickey wasn't the most easy going guy in the world. He had never been able to relax during the scams, even back when he used to work with Chris. Mickey had been to juvie and hadn't enjoyed the experience. He was pretty sure he'd like prison even less. Luckily, Ian was quick. He usually had a guy up in the room within thirty minutes. So after an hour had passed, Mickey wondered what the hell could be taking Ian so long. After seventy-five minutes had passed, Mickey started to worry. And by the ninety minute mark, Mickey was starting to lose his shit.

Mickey looked down at his phone and contemplated his next move. He couldn't just sit and wait anymore. He texted Ian, asking where he was. There was no response.

Mickey was no longer in the closet. He was pacing the hotel room, unable to stay still. His heart was beating rapidly. He dialed his cousin's number. Chris answered after a couple rings. Mickey could hear laughter and music in the background and knew the other man was at a bar.

"Is it done?"

"No, it's not fucking done! Ian never made it to the room!"

"Maybe it's just taking longer tonight. Maybe Gallagher is having trouble finding someone who wants to fuck him," Chris slurred.

Mickey could tell that Chris was drunk. He felt instantly resentful. They had an unspoken understanding that neither of them would drink to excess on the nights they ran scams. They needed to be sharp in case something went wrong. Now something had gone wrong and Chris was in no condition to help. 

Mickey looked again at his watch. "He never takes this long. Something's wrong." He was trying to keep his voice steady but the fear seeped out of every word.

"You call him?"

"Texted. No answer."

"Call him."

"Yeah, okay." Mickey hung up without a goodbye. His hand shook as he hit Ian's contact button on his phone.

Mickey never called Ian. When he needed to communicate with him, he texted. And the texts were always short and dry. It felt strange to be calling. "Answer, you fucker," he muttered as Ian's phone began ringing. "Fuck," he yelled as Ian's voicemail clicked on. Mickey hung up and threw his phone across the room. He bit his lip and ran a hand through his hair. Something was definitely wrong.

 

The next thirty minutes were excruciating. Mickey had debated going home. Something was definitely wrong and he considered that he was a bit of a sitting duck if he stayed in that room. But he couldn't get himself to leave. What if Ian showed up? What if he needed him?

A million scenarios ran through Mickey's head and he considered stopping by Ian's house to see if the guy hadn't been able to snag a mark and had just called it a night and gone home. But Mickey knew that Ian would never do that. As the minutes ticked by, the scenarios in Mickey's head grew darker. He sat on the toilet and smoked cigarette after cigarette until he heard the slide of a card into the lock and the door open with a soft click.

Mickey was on his feet in a second, racing to the door, hiding be damned. Ian had his head tilted down and the first thing Mickey saw was red hair. "Ian, what the fuck?!" Ian took a step into the room, letting the door shut before leaning back against it and finally looking up at Mickey. Mickey gasped as he took in the sight of Ian's battered face. 

The beating had been brutal. Mickey hesitantly reached out a hand but could find no place to touch Ian's face that wasn't swollen or bruised or both. Finally, he cupped his cheek gently and looked into Ian's blackened eyes. "Fuck, Ian. The fuck happened?"

Ian flinched slightly at Mickey's touch but then seemed to notice the softness in the other man's eyes and leaned his head into Mickey's palm. He croaked out his reply through split and bleeding lips. "He knew, Mick. He and his friends were waiting for me."

Mickey looked at Ian in disbelief. "How? How could they have known?" 

Ian started to sway. "I need to sit, Mick. Feeling dizzy."

Mickey took his hand away and followed Ian as he walked across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Mickey looked him over. "They hurt you anywhere else or just your face?"

Ian shook his head then winced. His eyes filled with tears. "Just my face. Fuck, Mick."

Mickey bit his lip as Ian wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. "How many?"

Ian sniffed and looked away, embarrassed by his tears. "Three."

Mickey felt his entire body tense with rage and knew that he would kill them if he could, consequences be damned. He stood up and began pacing the room, his hands in fists. "How the fuck did this happen?! Who tipped the guy off?!" Suddenly, Mickey stopped pacing. "Lip."

Ian looked up and his eyes met Mickey's. "No. He would never hurt me, Mickey. Not ever."

"But he's the only one who knew."

"Not the only one," Ian said so softly that Mickey could barely make out the words.

Mickey licked his lips nervously. He knew what Ian was implying. Mickey wanted to deny it, to jump to his cousin's defense but he couldn't get the words out. The idea that Chris had set Ian up made Mickey's blood run cold but, as much as Mickey didn't want to believe it, he knew it was plausible. But, then again, as far as Mickey was concerned, it was equally plausible that it was Lip. Mickey barely knew the guy and certainly didn't trust him.

Ian winced again and put a hand to his forehead. "Fuck, my head hurts."

Mickey was at his side in a moment. He knelt in front of him. "Could have a concussion. Look at me." Mickey cupped Ian's chin and gently tilted his head up. Mickey had lived a short but violent life. He knew the signs of serious injury. He checked Ian's ears and nose for fluid. He checked for bruising behind his ears. He checked his pupils. "Your ears ringing?"

"No," Ian croaked out.

"Seeing stars?"

Ian shook his head and immediately winced in agony. His eyes filled with tears again. "My head hurts so fucking bad."

"Gotta stop shaking it, Dumbass," he said as he steadied Ian's face with his hand. His words were harsh but his voice was soft and Ian relaxed under his touch. Mickey looked into Ian's watery green eyes and saw total trust and vulnerability looking back at him. He gently stroked Ian's cheek with his thumb. "You black out at any point?"

"I think so. Not sure."

"You probably have a concussion. Fuck, Ian. I'm so fucking sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"I'd fucking kill those guys if I could."

The corners of Ian's mouth turned up slightly, giving Mickey just a hint of his usual lopsided grin. "Not necessary, Mick. If you go to jail, who will I hang out with every day?"

Before he knew what was happening, Mickey leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to Ian's. Ian tasted like a combination of blood, mint, and alcohol. But mostly blood. Mickey had never kissed anyone before and was surprised by the softness of Ian's lips. He was surprised that he liked the heat of Ian's breath in his mouth. Mickey wondered how long he had wanted to kiss Ian without realizing it.

Mickey could feel Ian's blood transferring to his lips. And he could feel Ian trembling slightly. He pulled back, continuing to stroke his cheek. "You okay?"

"I think you better keep me up tonight. Wouldn't want to slip into a coma or anything," Ian whispered.

Mickey felt a surge of anxiety in the pit of his stomach because Ian wanted Mickey to spend the night with him in the hotel. Mickey had never spent the night with a guy. He hadn't even ever come close. But, looking into Ian's eyes and noticing for the first time that the guy had orange eyelashes, Mickey was reminded that Ian was fucking beautiful. And he realized that it wasn't just anxiety he was feeling. It was also excitement. "I gotta clean you up. Get some ice on your face," he said softly.

Ian was pale beneath his bruises and his eyes were red but he broke out with the biggest grin before leaning forward and crashing his mouth against Mickey's. Ian kissed him aggressively, shoving his tongue into Mickey's mouth. Mickey felt his body respond as his dick became instantly hard. But then Ian suddenly pulled away, head in his hands. "Fuck, Mickey. My head. Oh fuck."

"Be right back." Mickey left the room and returned shortly afterward holding a bucket of ice. He went into the bathroom and came out with a glass of water. He fished a packet of aspirin out of his pocket and tore it open before handing the pills to Ian. Ian swallowed the pills obediently. Mickey then poured some of the ice into a pillow case. He then arranged the pillows against the headboard before gently pushing Ian back so that he was propped up against the pillows.

As Mickey arranged Ian's body against the pillows, Ian looked up at him woefully. "I really want you, Mick. Fuck."

Mickey sat down beside Ian. He brushed the hair off Ian's bruised forehead before placing the ice filled pillowcase gently against Ian's swollen face. He then grabbed the remote and turned on the television. "Don't worry. There will be plenty of time for you to fuck me later when you're not concussed."

"Does that mean I get a raincheck?"

Mickey raised an eyebrow. "I want to fuck you. My word isn't good enough? You need it fucking notarized?"

Ian laughed out loud and Mickey felt a warmth shoot through his entire body. He looked away from Ian and pretended to watch tv. After only a few minutes, he heard Ian shifting and suddenly Ian's head was resting heavily on Mickey's shoulder. At the same moment, Mickey's phone buzzed with a text from Chris asking if everything was okay. Mickey stared at the screen a moment before turning it off without responding. He spent the rest of the night awake and trying not to freak out, with only the sound of Ian's breathing to calm him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you guys want to see this story continue. The next chapter will take longer because I haven't written it yet. Thanks for reading!


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